Friday, December 31, 2010

Ice Cream Heart:A Romance

I don't think my new girlfriend likes me very much. We hit it off pretty well one afternoon (if ya know what I mean) in the storeroom at the Dairy Queen where we used to work together, but I got fired for stealing a 5 lb. bag of crushed Oreos and she's been sorta chilly towards me since then. Like, not nice at all.


It was a mistake, stealing those cookie crumbs. I thought the expiration date on the label said 11/01/08, not 11/01/10 and I was just trying to protect the customers and maybe even save DQ from a class-action lawsuit- I think shoulda got a raise for being so thoughtful, but I got fired instead.

Who knew that crushed Oreos have such a long shelf life? Not me.

It's ignorance of little things like that that cause so many problems for me. I'm not a bad person, I just don't know much about sundae toppings.

So I tried to explain this to my girl.

"It's a mistake", I told her. "I was only trying to help."

"You are my mistake", is what she said. "I don't understand what I saw in you."

I think she'd appreciate me more if she understood me better, but she won't answer my calls or return my emails, so it's pretty hard to explain things to her.

A while back, I saw a story about how a buncha guys were camping out at shopping malls in order to score Playstation 3's before Xmas and it gave me an idea.

My idea was to camp out next to my girlfriend's car overnight (she lives in a condo with an uptight security guard who won't let me in just because I don't live there) so that she would have to see me in the morning. Then we could patch things up and maybe I could borrow some money from her until I find a new job.

I thought that mixing Aristocrat Vodka with Full Throttle energy drinks would keep me awake all night and give me that little extra 'oomph' I need when I'm simultaneously hitting on a chick for sex and money, but I goofed up the mix with some pills I stole from my grandmother and I must have passed out sometime during my overnight vigil.

When I woke up, some old bald guy was shaking me...he was pretty mad. He was using really foul language, mostly saying "...gonna kick your motherpluckin' @ss"- except he didn't say 'pluckin'.
My girlfriend was standing behind him and she didn't look very happy either.
Of course, I thought she was mad at the Other Guy for being mean to me, her boyfriend.

Man-o-man, I was wrong.

She said, " This is that creepy guy from work that I told you about."

She said that to the Other Guy and she was talking about me. Ouch!

It really hurt my feelings- I mean, I thought we had something special, something real, something more romantic and meaningful than a dry-hump in the stockroom...but I was wrong.

I wanted to explain all this to her but the pills and vodka caught up to me and I puked on Mean Guy's New Balance sneakers instead.


Then he made it worse by calling me a pathetic p*ssy and a whole bunch of other stuff- words that look like #*^&#@! and *&$#%! when you see them in newspaper cartoons. He said I was lucky he was in a good mood, otherwise he'd f*ck me up.


What a bully! Couldn't he see that I didn't feel so good? If I hadn't been so sick I woulda beat him up.

Anyway, It turns out that she thinks that Mean Old Guy is her boyfriend and she wouldn't even listen to me explain how sensitive I was and how she'd be better off with me than with him-after all, he's old, probably at least 30, maybe 40-but she wasn't listening. She just got in her car-with the Mean Guy!- and kinda drove off. She kept accelerating and braking, start , stop, start, stop...I wanted to tell her that it seemed like her car was having transmission trouble but after the second start/stop I fell off the hood of her Taurus and landed on the asphalt.


I was only trying to give her some sound automotive advice, but she didn't listen- I coulda got hurt in the process!
She actually had the nerve to roll down the window and tell me that I was lucky she didn't run my @ss over- I already knew that, I could tell there was something wrong with her car just from the way it was acting.

But the window was down, so I made my move. As long as the Mean Guy had his seatbelt on, I figured I was safe.

I popped my question.

She wouldn't even loan me twenty bucks! What a b*tch!

She told me I'd better talk to her boyfriend from now on.

Huh? Until this morning , I didn't even know she had a boyfriend. I thought I was her boyfriend.

I think our relationship needs more honesty.

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